


i will be redefined

by ericdire (aarobron)



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Fluff, Light Dom/sub, Literal filth, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 07:32:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18069209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aarobron/pseuds/ericdire
Summary: This was the result of the bet, the part that their teammates hadn’t heard. Eric had texted him, one hand on his phone under the table and the other pushing pasta around his plate, and he’d had a smirk on his face the entire time. Dele was never going to turn this down.Eric takes a hold of both ends of the tie and loops it around Dele’s head, material slipping against the shaved hair until he pulls it taught. He pauses, waiting for something – consent, encouragement – and Dele breathes out a shaky sigh, dipping his chin ever so slightly in a nod. He agreed to this earlier. He agrees to it now.“Trust me,” Eric says, hooking his thumb over Dele’s bottom teeth and dragging his mouth open. He fits the tie in the younger man’s mouth, sliding it from side to side until he’s satisfied, and knots it at the back of Dele’s head. It’s loose enough that it’s not choking him, but tight enough that he has to bite down on it.





	i will be redefined

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i genuinely have no words to describe what you're about to read. if smut isn't your thing, turn back now. if kinks aren't your thing, press x immediately. if you're a bit scared of the prospect, please put your phone down.
> 
> i didn't think i had any of this entire fic in me, but allana is a bad, bad influence and i love her so much. you have her to thank for this, so please show her some appreciation.
> 
> as always, feedback is appreciated! thank you for reading x

“Trust me,” Eric says, voice a crooning whisper. His thumb smooths down the sharp line of Dele’s jaw as he leans forward to press a gentle kiss to the younger man’s lips, and when he pulls back, he’s smiling. “You do trust me, don’t you?” 

Dele can’t help but chase Eric’s mouth, but he can’t go far. His arms are behind his back, crossed at the wrists and tied together. Tight enough to rub red marks into the skin, enough that he can feel it, and he pulls against the restraints a little just to feel the burn.

“Yes,” he breathes. He feels like he’s in a trance; the whole world has faded into blackness until there’s just a single spotlight beamed straight onto Eric, highlighting the bow of his lips and the furrow of his brow, glinting off his teeth when he grins. 

He takes his right hand from where it’s been hidden behind his back and cups Dele’s face, fingers splayed across his cheekbones. There’s something wrapped around his hand, it feels soft and silky and it makes Dele shudder. He thinks he knows what it is, _hopes_ it’s what he thinks it is – and his dick twitches where it’s resting against his stomach. 

The muscles of Dele’s thighs are aching from where he’s been sat on his heels for the last fifteen minutes, and he seriously thought he was in better shape than this, but none of that seems to matter when Eric has that look in his eyes. Dele had lost a bet – that’s why this is happening, why he’d stripped off as soon as they got home and let Eric tie his wrists together – but it seems more like a win right now. 

Eric’s hand slides round to the back of his head, fingertips brushing through the short hairs there as he holds Dele in place. He’s still smiling, slightly devious like he has plans, but it blurs when he inches closer, kneeling between the splay of Dele’s legs. He darts forward and kisses the younger man before he even has a chance to blink, tongue tracing Dele’s lower lip so he opens his mouth.

The kiss is hotter than before, wet and enough to draw a quiet whimper from Dele’s throat, and he flexes his fingers. He wants to touch, all that bare skin is ready and waiting, but his hands are literally tied. Eric draws his hands back at the same time as he breaks the kiss, and he unravels the fabric from around his knuckles.

It’s a tie, a deep navy in colour and smooth, with the Spurs logo embroidered in white at the bottom. It’s the same one from their team photoshoot at the start of the season, and Dele has no idea how Eric managed to sneak it home. Or, as at a matter of fact, how he even hid it. He’s never seen it before, and he’s always rifling through Eric’s clothes to bitch about the stuff he doesn’t like. 

His pulse triples in speed and his mouth goes dry at the thought of what’s about to happen. He already knew, of course – it was part of the bet. Winks had been teasing him all through lunch about his loud mouth and snappy attitude, and as soon as Eric had joined in, that was it. Eric had bet that he couldn’t stay silent through the entire afternoon training session, and Dele thought he had it in the bag.

Clearly, he was wrong.

This was the result of the bet, the part that their teammates hadn’t heard. Eric had texted him, one hand on his phone under the table and the other pushing pasta around his plate, and he’d had a smirk on his face the entire time. Dele was never going to turn this down.

Eric takes a hold of both ends of the tie and loops it around Dele’s head, material slipping against the shaved hair until he pulls it taught. He pauses, waiting for something – consent, encouragement – and Dele breathes out a shaky sigh, dipping his chin ever so slightly in a nod. He agreed to this earlier. He agrees to it now. 

Besides, it’s not as though he doesn’t like it: his toes are curling against the bedsheets and the tip of his dick is wet, smearing against his stomach. It’s aching, and he wants Eric to touch him so bad, but _this_. This is even better. 

“Trust me,” Eric repeats, hooking his thumb over Dele’s bottom teeth and dragging his mouth open. He fits the tie in the younger man’s mouth, sliding it from side to side until he’s satisfied, and knots it at the back of Dele’s head. It’s loose enough that it’s not choking him, but tight enough that he has to bite down on it. 

It’s _hot_ , and his dick is fucking leaking. Eric hasn’t even touched him yet. This is embarrassing.

He snaps out of his thoughts when Eric moves closer, face filling up his entire vision. He looks slightly concerned, and he thumbs Dele’s lower lip gently. “I said, is that alright?” He asks. His voice is soft and gentle, tendrils of it curling around Dele’s shoulders and keeping him warm. He tries to speak, to say yes or beg or anything, but his tongue only brushes against the silk of the tie. Instead, he nods, and feels a rush of tenderness when Eric kisses his forehead. 

“You look amazing,” Eric continues, taking advantage of the silence. It doesn’t happen often – usually, Dele is loud and mouthy, swearing and spitting sarcastic words at Eric, and the older man just smirks and does that thing with his tongue. 

But now, right now, Dele is on his knees with his hands behind his back and mouth rendered useless, like he’s on show. He feels exposed, but in the best way. Because he’s Eric’s and Eric’s alone, ready for the taking. Waiting for it, and there’s nothing he can do about it. He just needs to bide his time. 

“I mean it,” Eric whispers. He curls his hands around Dele's thighs, fingers long and grip tight enough to leave bruises. It makes the younger man's skin tingle, and he shivers when Eric unfolds his legs so he's sitting with them stretched out in front of him. “Gonna make you feel so good, Delboy.”

Eric kneels in space between Dele's legs and peppers kisses all over his face: his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids. Anywhere he can reach, and at the same time, tilts Dele back until he's flat on the bed, stretched out while Eric towers over him. There's not much separating them, really - Eric is bulkier, muscles thicker, but they're the same height.

It doesn't feel like that now. No, it feels like Eric is a thousand times bigger, surrounding Dele from all angles.

His lips graze over the younger man's jaw, teeth grazing over the sharp line of the bone. It's enough of a tease that Dele whines, low in his throat. It's a noise he's never made before, and he would be embarrassed by it if he didn't feel Eric breathe out harshly against his skin.

There's a flicker of wet heat on his throat, a split second of what's to become, before Eric flattens his tongue against the sensitive spot of his pulse. He bites, a sharp, stinging pressure that bleeds into pleasure, before he swipes his tongue over the mark.

Dele's fingers flex behind his back, aching with the need to touch Eric, but all they find is the creases of the bedsheets underneath him. It has to do, so he fists his hands into the material and bucks his hips up.

But Eric doesn't take the bait. He moves away as soon as Dele's body twists, the warmth of him disappearing and leaving the younger man shivering. It's a loss that he feels deep in his belly.

“Patience,” Eric whispers, smoothing his palm down the side of Dele's face. He drops a kiss on his forehead again, in the space between his eyebrows, smoothing out the furrow there.

Dele drops back against the bed, teeth grinding against the tie in place of swearing at Eric. He wants to be touched more than anything, but chasing the older man's body won't work, and he can't do the other thing that Eric likes - begging. So he lays back, bound hands digging into his spine, and does the only thing he can: waits.

“Wasn't that hard, was it?” Eric murmurs, hand stroking down the side of Dele's face. He kisses him high on the cheekbone, dry where there's a sheen of sweat covering his skin. It's enough, though, because Eric seems satisfied. He shifts down the length of Dele's body and nips at his collarbone, tongue leaving a wet path across his chest.

He gasps when Eric's mouth closes over his right nipple, rolling the bud between his teeth. The sensation sparks a fire that spreads right down to Dele's toes, and he grunts when Eric pulls back and blows cool air gently. His dick hasn't even touched but it's throbbing, so hard he could cry.

Eric moves over and lavishes the same attention to his other nipple, then drags his teeth down the sensitive skin of Dele's ribs. He almost twists away, but not moving means more touching, so he forces himself to stay still and sighs when Eric bites down harshly on the hard muscle of his abs.

The thing is, Eric doesn't get like this often. He's usually more than happy to let Dele push him back against the bed and straddle his hips, to kiss down into him and take control. But Eric is biting and fucking and _taking_ , reducing Dele to nothing with his tongue and not much else. It can only get better from here, and Dele can't wait.

“You wanna know what I'm gonna do to you?” Eric asks conversationally, as if he isn't thumbing over Dele's nipple and his free hand isn't wrapped around the swell of his thigh. The younger man lets out a choked noise, tongue sliding against silk, and hopes Eric takes it as a yes. “First, I'm gonna put my mouth on you. Everywhere but where you want it, because I know it drives you crazy. You'll be begging for it, but I can't hear you, so you'll just be shivering from the feeling and there's nothing you can do about it.”

His tone is clear and demanding, controlling the situation, controlling Dele's body, and he pauses to suck a wet kiss on the sharp point of his hip before continuing. “Then I'm going to lay you face down and put my tongue in you.”

Dele's fingers twitch again, tangling together, because all he wants to do is grab Eric's head and feel the short hairs brush against his palms, push him further south and make him live out these promises. He keeps his eyes on Eric, the darkening of the older man's pupils and the flush of his chest, and thinks, _I'm so lucky_.

Not a bad bet to lose, really.

“I'm gonna fuck you with my tongue, and then when you're about to come I'll pull away. Leave you hanging by a thread, because you can't come until I decide you can,” Eric says. He sounds like pure sex now, low and gravelly, dripping with desire. Despite the way they act, they both know that Eric has the upper hand in their relationship; he always has. He's just the right side of dominant, the kind that makes Dele wants to drop to his knees when Eric walks into the room. “Yeah? You like that, Del?”

He nods so viciously he almost breaks his neck, and Eric smirks at the sight. They both know how much it takes to have Dele this pliant, and the younger man knows that even if he wasn't gagged he'd be speechless - but it also probably wouldn't have gotten to this point.

“I'll pull you on to my lap, finally get my cock in you,” Eric whispers, mouth only a hair away from Dele's ear now. There are tears stinging behind his eyelids from the tension of it, the pure surging want, but Eric must realise because he plants a sloppy kiss to the hinge of his jaw. “I'll take that gag off you when you're begging and crying, and only then do you get to come.”

Dele feels like he could come right now from a light breeze over his aching dick, and he bends his knee so he can drag his heel up the length of Eric's calf. It's their signal, the one that says _please i'm too close i'm gonna come i need a breather_. Neither of them want this to be over too soon.

Eric can read him like a book, and he drags his hand through Dele's hair, fingers tangling in the short curls as he tilts the younger man's head to the side and peppers kisses over his cheek. He's punctuating every movement with things like _breathe_ , and _in and out_ , and _stay with me_ , and eventually the fog clears from Dele's brain and he noses against Eric's cheek.

The older man looks back at him with a questioning gaze, and when he nods, Eric breaks character for a few seconds, beaming that brilliant bright smile at him before his eyes go dark again, almost black in the low light of the bedroom.

“I love you,” Eric whispers, palm gentle on the side of Dele’s face. He forces the younger man to make eye contact, stare intense and burning, but it’s too much, it’s all too much, so Dele bites down on the gag so hard his teeth ache and let his eyelids slip shut. He doesn’t realise he’s crying until Eric brushes the tear away with his thumb and rests his forehead against his temple. “So good for me, Dele. Wish you could see yourself.” 

A broken sob fights up Dele’s throat, but Eric is already gone, sliding down the length of his body with gentle, skimming touches and dry lips. He’s nowhere and everywhere, surrounding Dele until there’s nothing else to fill his senses. It’s all Eric: the rough drag of his skin, the wetness of his tongue, the scent of his aftershave, and the bruises in the shape of his fingertips. 

Eric sits back on his heels, and Dele cranes his neck to look at him. It’s worth it; his swollen cock is bouncing heavily between his thighs, skin flushed from the chest up and a bead of sweat is rolling down the side of his face. He smiles when he notices Dele looking – more of a smirk, really – and then wraps both of his hands around Dele’s knees and pulls his legs apart. He settles on the bed, resting his weight on his elbows, and all the younger man can see is the top of his head, so he falls back against the pillow with a harsh breath.

“Chopstick legs,” Eric muses, tongue flat against the inside of Dele’s thigh. His teeth graze that ever so sensitive spot, right on the back of the younger man’s leg, and presses his grin against it when Dele twitches. “Not anymore, huh?”

He proves his point by sinking his teeth into the hard muscle, bite strong enough that Dele knows it’s going to leave a bruise, then pulls back and licks soothingly over the mark. It’s _so close_ to where Dele wants him, but it also feels like miles away. Too much and not enough at the same time, and Dele can’t help but fight against the restraints around his wrists. The friction burn just adds to the multitude of sensations, and Eric shifts upwards to kiss his stomach soothingly.

“Soon,” he adds teasingly, fingers spidering up the length of Dele’s legs to grip at his waist. He stays there for a moment, and then another, fingers biting into the skin as he gazes appreciatively down at Dele, and grins, flipping the younger man onto his stomach. It’s a relief not to have his own hands pressing into his back, and the sheets are providing welcome friction to his aching dick. 

Eric all but drapes himself over Dele’s body, chest sliding against his shoulders as he presses dry, soft kisses to the short hairs at the back of Dele’s head. “Alright?” He whispers, sucking bruises into the other man’s neck. His cock is nestled in the crease of Dele’s arse, the head of it catching on his hole when he moves. It’s tantalisingly close, but he forces himself to be patient, flattening his hands so his palms can smooth over the hard planes of Eric’s stomach instead. “Dele – are you okay?”

There’s a hand in his hair but he fights against the pull of it to turn his head to the side, cheek resting against the pillow as he nods. Eric drops a kiss to his cheek, his nose, his temple, and then he’s gone like a flash, the heat of his skin fading. Dele feels cold so suddenly, shivering as he tries to shift his body backwards, tries to find Eric but coming up empty. 

He’s panicked, for a split second, that Eric has disappeared: left the room and left Dele splayed across the bed, exposed and vulnerable, but he wouldn’t do that, would he? Not unless it’s part of losing the bet, and maybe he’s in too deep right now, maybe he can’t think rationally, maybe maybe maybe– 

But then Eric is back, shushing him quietly as the fingers of his left hand dig into the flesh of his arse. The other is at Dele’s waist, brushing over the tattoo that Eric is always so fascinated by. His presence is back, his smell and his touch and his voice, and Dele feels so full of it all that he doesn’t mind the fact he’s not being fucked right now. 

“‘M not going anywhere,” Eric murmurs. The words are quiet but they ricochet around Dele’s brain like a bullet, echoing in the silence and between the ragged breaths that the older man is drawing in. He’s glad Eric is just as affected by this, but he doesn’t understand the endless patience he has. That’s probably why they work so well together; Dele likes to push and push and push, and Eric can drag him back just at the right moment, folds him up in those strong arms and doesn’t let him go any further. “I’m here, alright? I’ve got you.” 

Dele wishes he could see Eric right now. He wants nothing more than to see the look on his face, the expanse of his pupils and his flushed cheeks, but the only thing in his line of vision is a picture of the two of them, framed proudly and propped on the bedside table. It’s not helping matters – it’s taunting him – so he closes his eyes instead, focuses on every point of contact on his skin. 

Eric’s palm drags down his side, over his hip until it’s on his arse, and he stretches his long, thick fingers until they’re covering both of his cheeks. He tucks his thumbs in the crease and pulls them apart, and if Dele thought he was exposed before, then it’s nothing compared to this. Eric sighs softly, want and need all mixed into one, then leans down, face so close to Dele’s skin that he can feel the heat radiating off of his body. 

He blows gently, cool air washing over Dele’s warm skin, and it makes his hole twitch. The shame of it burns over his body, and he half hopes Eric hasn’t noticed, hasn’t seen the entire fucking spectacle that’s happening inches away from his face. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this open with anyone, let alone his _boyfriend_ , but luck really isn’t on his side.

The older man groans, deep and guttural, and drags his cock along the back of Dele’s thigh. He can feel precome smearing the dusky hairs there, but he doesn’t have time to think about what that means because Eric is doing it again; blowing in short, sharp bursts, and watching the reaction.

“Fuck,” Eric says, voice choked and strained. His gaze is burning Dele’s skin, and the younger man knows he hasn’t looked away. His grip on Dele’s arse gets tighter, fingertips biting into the flesh, and he’ll have eight identical bruises in the morning. Eight dark marks that prove he’s Eric’s, nobody else’s. All Eric’s. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful. You don’t get it, Del. You really don’t understand how beautiful you are.” 

The shame fades away until the hairs on the back of his neck are no longer standing on end, pride taking over instead. He wants to snap back, to tell Eric that he’s seen himself in the mirror and knows exactly what he looks like, and that he knows how to use it to Eric’s advantage, but then he stops short. This is a side of him that nobody else has seen, a side that Dele couldn’t even imagine existing. It’s a side that Eric created, tuning into his wants and needs and turning them into reality. Eric knows that. Eric understands.

And now, so does Dele. 

He bites down on the tie as Eric ghosts a gentle breath over his skin one final time, before dropping a dry kiss to his hole. “Kick me if you need me to stop,” Eric says quietly, like one final statement, and he buries his face between Dele’s cheeks and licks a firm stripe up the length of his crease. He does it again, alternating in pressure and gentleness until Dele is whimpering, fighting against the restraints on his wrists and feeling so acutely _empty_ that it hurts. 

It’s not like they haven’t done this before. Dele is a bitch about it, sometimes, but it’s only because he likes it – makes Eric drop to his knees in the shower while he braces himself against the cold tiles, or when they’re halfway through a movie night that’s turned into something a lot more and Dele finds himself hanging over the arm of the sofa – but he doesn’t think Eric has ever been so _eager_ about it. This feels like a lot more than just a tongue in his arse, because this is Dele, tied up and gagged. He can’t move and he can’t speak, and the only thing that’s getting him through this is the fact that he trusts Eric with his entire life, but for some reason, Eric is giving it to him. Willingly. Because he likes it. Because he needs it.

Because Eric wants him to feel good.

In the back of his mind, he knows that Eric is ignoring his own needs for Dele’s. He’s probably so hard it hurts, wants nothing more than to get a hand on himself and chase that release, but he’s still waiting. Dele lost the bet, and Eric’s the one being considerate. 

All of these thoughts fly out of his mind the second that Eric stiffens his tongue up and pushes it inside, wet, flickering licks of heat that make Dele feel like he’s burning up from the inside out. He can barely remember who he was before his moment, before Eric started eating him out like he’s got something to prove. _Fuck _, he can barely remember his own name, but Eric doesn’t relent. He keeps licking and sucking, obscene noises filling up every empty corner of the room in time with Dele’s own moans.__

__He pushes his hips back against the sensation, but that means the friction around his cock from the bedsheets and his own stomach stops, so he thrusts back down again, and he’s just about managed to get a decent rhythm going for ten seconds before Eric realises what’s going on. He pulls away harshly, leaving Dele wet and aching, a choked sob falling out of his mouth before he can stop it._ _

__“No,” Eric says shortly, and at the same time, he slaps his palm against the softest part of Dele’s arse. He’s taken most of the force out of it and it doesn’t really hurt, but the sharp noise shocks Dele until he falls still, mouth dropped open for a moment until his mind catches up. That’s definitely something they’ve never done, and he really didn’t think he’d like it, but he whimpers and pushes his hips back again, testing Eric’s resolve._ _

__This time, Eric smacks his other cheek, just as swift but a little more forceful, enough to leave a palm print, before moving up and tangling his fingers in Dele’s hair. He tugs his head back until the younger man is forced to look at him, eyes aching with the force of holding back tears and tongue pressing against the silk. “I said _no_. Are you going to behave, now?” Eric says. His mouth is set in a thin line, eyes dark and serious, leaving no room for debate._ _

__Dele nods, because that’s what Eric wants and he’d give Eric anything he asked for right now._ _

__“That’s what I like to hear,” Eric hums appreciatively, planting a wet kiss to Dele’s temple. He rests his nose there for a second and breathes, just simply breathes, because he’s trying not to come, and when he’s finally managed to pick up the pieces of himself and put them back together, he speaks a little more calmly. “Good boy. You’re such a good boy.”_ _

__And then he’s gone again, face back between Dele’s legs and tongue fucking into him with firm, perfect strokes._ _

__Dele stays still and takes it, latches onto the feeling and lets the buzz of it fill his veins. He’s drooling a little, the corners of his mouth spit slicked where the gag is forcing his lips apart, but he breathes through it all. Eric’s words are on a loop through his brain. _Good boy. Good boy. Good boy_. He wants to be good for Eric. He wants to reap the awards of it, wants that forever, wants to know that any time he’s made his boyfriend proud, he can have this. _ _

__But it becomes too much; his vision starts to fade to white at the corners and his balls are drawn impossibly tight, cock throbbing and leaving a wet patch on the mattress, so he musters all the energy he’s got and kicks his foot. He doesn’t know if he’s kicking Eric, because he can’t find any sense of coordination, but he kicks and sobs and kicks, and then sobs some more, tears blurring his vision instead of white when Eric pulls away with a filthy sucking sound._ _

__He’s crying now, really, properly crying. His shoulders are shaking with the force of his sobs, tears tracking down his cheeks until he’s tasting salt, but it’s not a bad thing. He wants to come so badly, but he doesn’t want this to ever be over. He’s torn between twisting away from the bed because the pressure is too sensitive on his dick, and fucking down into the folds of the sheets so he can finally get his release._ _

__Luckily, Eric makes that decision for him._ _

__“Come on, come here,” Eric coos gently, so quiet that Dele wouldn’t have heard him if he hadn’t focused all of his attention on the older man. There’s a hand on his neck, gripping tight, and another on the knotted rope around his wrists, and then he’s being lifted from his position, pulled up onto his knees and facing Eric. “You’re doing so good, baby, so fucking good. I’m proud of you, really proud of you.”_ _

__Dele hangs his head, half because he doesn’t have the energy to hold it up and half because he’s ashamed. He feels so weak right now: body racking with ragged sobs because his boyfriend hasn’t let him come yet, on his knees with burning muscles and not a single thing to show for it._ _

__“Look at me, Dele,” Eric demands, and when Dele doesn’t move an inch, he gets a hand between them and grips the younger man’s chin, forcing his head upward and locking their gazes. There’s something about Eric’s strong, blue eyes that calms Dele down, washing over him in waves until the tears subside and he’s breathing just the wrong side of too heavy. “You’re doing so well, Del. You’re amazing. You’ve been so, so good for me, yeah? Yeah?”_ _

__He forces himself to nod, dips his chin down to his chest and then lifts it again because Eric told him to look at him, and he gets a warm smile in return. “Won’t be long,” Eric whispers. His fingertips graze along the sharp line of Dele’s cheekbone and then further, ghosting over the velvety hair at the back of his head as he finds the knot. “Just gotta hold out a little bit longer, okay? You can do it. I know you can. You’ve already come this far, Del. It won’t be long, I promise.”_ _

__And then the knot is loosened, silk slipping away from Dele’s head as Eric gently removes it from between his teeth. He flexes his jaw a few times and darts his tongue out to wet his lips, the older man’s eyes following every movement. He gazes up at Eric from beneath his lashes, shuddering out a sigh as the older man drops a kiss to his forehead and then reaches behind him again. This time, his fingers are deftly untying the restraints on his wrists, quick movements that Dele is too tired to follow, so he drops his head to Eric’s shoulder and rests his weight there. Just for a second. Just until he can drape himself over Eric’s body and not let go. Not ever. Not again._ _

__“Thank you,” Dele says, voice hoarse from the force of his earlier sobs. He brings his aching arms up and around Eric’s shoulders, inspecting the worst of the marks on his wrists. Not too bad. He’ll have to wear long sleeves and gloves to training for the next few days, but it’s not noticeable. “I love you.”_ _

__“I love you too,” Eric whispers, strong grip on Dele’s neck pulling him back so their faces are inches apart. He leans forward and kisses the younger man, gentle but deep, tongue licking into Dele’s mouth as his other hand comes up to cup his cheek. It’s the kind of kiss he’s been waiting for, and it feels like the gag has deprived him for hours, so he tightens his arms around Eric’s shoulders and kisses back twice as hard._ _

__They stay like that, on their knees on the middle of the bed, making out for seconds, minutes, days. Dele couldn’t tell. It feels like forever, and eventually, he comes back to himself, aware of the harsh breaths he’s letting out through his nose, and the choked noises that Eric is releasing into his mouth. His cock starts throbbing again, letting him know that he still hasn’t come, and he nips Eric’s lower lip as he pulls away from the kiss._ _

__“You good?” Eric asks, darting forward and pressing their lips together again like he just can’t help himself. His gaze is questioning, curious, and he smiles when Dele nods, brighter than the sun and twice as beautiful._ _

__He reaches across the bed and pulls a bottle of lube from under the pillow, where he’d stashed it earlier, and slicks up his fingers. Dele’s still wet and loose from Eric’s tongue, but he knows there’s no getting out of this. This is Eric Dier: careful and considerate, almost to a fault. Checking and then checking again, taking no risks and stopping if he thinks he’s accidentally hurt Dele. This giant, six-foot-something man with shaved hair is so unexpectedly gentle, and all that he is – is Dele’s._ _

__His free hand pulls Dele onto his lap, and they’re pressed together everywhere. Dele’s knees are either side of Eric’s thighs, sweat slicked chests sliding against each other, foreheads resting together, but Dele closes his eyes in the face of Eric’s gaze. It’s so intense, he feels like he could come from that look alone._ _

__There’s a cold finger teasing up the crease of his arse, and Dele tries to jump away from the sensation, overstimulated and sensitive, but Eric’s hand has a tight grip on the nape of his neck. He can’t go anywhere; Eric is behind him and in front of him and there’s no escape, so he forces himself to relax as the older man slides the finger inside him._ _

__“You make me feel so good, Del,” Eric whispers distractedly, lips skimming up the vein in Dele’s neck. He pushes another finger in, tongue lapping at the hollow of his throat. His hand is moving, expert little flicks of his wrist, but he avoids Dele’s prostate the best he can, filling him up instead. “Seeing you like that, tied up and waiting… Hardest thing I’ve ever done was not fucking you right then. You’re gorgeous, so gorgeous. I love you.”_ _

__Dele bears down on Eric’s hand, trying to force his fingers deeper, but the older man tuts, pulling away until just the tips of his fingers are inside. Dele could cry, feels like his body is clenching around nothing. It’s almost painful, and he chokes on a whimper._ _

__“Be patient,” Eric says, voice strict and demanding. He sounds seconds away from depriving Dele of all of this, making him wait hours and hours just to prove a point. He’s done it before, so it wouldn’t surprise Dele – but that’s not what he needs this time. Now, he needs Eric inside him, until his vision is blurred and he can’t think straight, so he kisses Eric’s temple as an apology._ _

__Eric seems satisfied, goes back to scissoring his fingers inside Dele as he kisses the younger man, licking into his mouth in time with the strokes of his hand. It’s such an incredible feeling, makes Dele feel like he doesn’t know where he ends and Eric begins. They’re the same person like this, two hearts and souls sharing one body. Dele wants that all the time; wants to crawl inside Eric’s skin and stay there, knowing he’s safe and protected and loved._ _

__Dele shivers when Eric pulls his fingers out, definitely empty this time, but the older man’s cock is sliding against the crease of his hip. It’s like he’s getting a preview, and Eric slides his palm from Dele’s neck down to the small of his back as he slicks up his dick with his free hand. He takes his time, pressing gentle, chaste kisses to Dele’s lips as he slides inside, but he doesn’t have to. Dele is ready, has been for hours, and there’s barely any resistance as Eric bottoms out with a sharp gasp._ _

__Their foreheads are resting together, gazes locked as Eric holds his hips still, letting him wait out the initial burn. Dele can’t look away, brings his hands up to curve around the sharp line of Eric’s jaw and thumbs through the short hairs of his beard. The older man’s eyes are burning bright, bright blue, pupils blown from the feeling of Dele all around him, and he smiles sweetly. It’s the tiniest quirk of his lips but Dele kisses it, saves it and keeps it forever._ _

__“You okay?” Eric asks quietly, always considerate. His lips skim Dele’s mouth when he speaks: there’s barely a centimetre of space between them, so close that he is certain Eric can feel his heart pounding against his ribs, hear the rushing of the blood in his ears. The air feels thick, tangible, settled on Dele’s tongue and cloying, so he nods his head instead of trying to talk. “Alright. Good.”_ _

__Eric’s fingertips press bruises into Dele’s waist, thumbs set heavily on the sharp points of his hip bones, and he smiles, sharp and just for a second, up at Dele. The younger man knows what’s coming, but he still doesn’t expect it when Eric lifts him up (like he doesn’t weigh a thing), and then slams him right back down. The angle is all off and there’s no particular spark of pleasure, but the force of it still makes Dele cry out, feeling full and like he’s burning up from the inside out._ _

__He doesn’t realise that he’s breathing heavily and harshly until Eric shushes him, pressing soothing kisses to the hinge of his jaw. He still doesn’t let up on the pace, rolling his hips lazily. His thrusts are shallow, not enough to make Dele feel good but enough that he’s growing impatient and desperate, tips of his fingers scrabbling for purchase against Eric’s neck so he can push back down._ _

__It doesn’t work; every time Dele tries to meet his hips, Eric holds him still, sucking a wet bruise right over the pulse point on his throat. Dele’s too weak to fight back, too far gone to even try and force a bit of strength back into his body, so he just holds on and takes it. It’s torturous, there’s no real rhythm or depth, just Eric working his cock in tiny movements, each drag of his dick painfully beautiful. Dele feels like he could fall apart right there and then – if it wasn’t for Eric’s strong arms holding him together, he probably would. He can’t even think straight._ _

__“Del. Del – _Dele_ ,” Eric murmurs, snapping the younger man out of his trance. He pulls his head just enough back to meet Eric’s gaze head on, feeling it like a car crash deep in his chest. Eric’s eyes are so, so blue, his lips red and swollen, cheeks flushed and a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Dele loves every single part of him, and he can’t stop himself from surging forward and fitting their mouths together. “I wanna hear you, Del. Let me hear you.” _ _

__That breaks some kind of barrier inside of him, and the next shallow thrust tears a whine from the base of his throat, needy and high pitched. He feels Eric groan, the vibration of it travelling through his chest and down to the deepest point of his desire, right down to the heat that’s licking through his veins and coiling in his belly – and then Eric’s hands are finally, _finally_ dragging him down to meet his hips._ _

__The angle is finally right and Eric’s dick is brushing against his prostate with every movement, tiny sparks of pleasure that turn his spine to liquid as he gasps out breathy moans. Half of him wants more; wants Eric to press against that bundle of nerves without stopping, with no consideration to how it’s make Dele feel. The other half wants nothing but Eric’s cock simply inside him, filling him up and making him whole until he can’t think of anything else._ _

__But there’s no time for that now, because Eric has finally built up a rhythm – a punishing, breathtaking one, and there are tears blurring the corners of Dele’s vision now. He turns his head to the left and presses his mouth against Eric’s head. He wants to kiss him but he can’t find the coordination, so the friction of his close-shaved hair against his lips has to be enough._ _

__“Fuck,” he hears Eric choke out distantly, like he’s underwater. Dele isn’t sure if he’s supposed to reply but he can’t find the words anyway, just tightens his arm around Eric’s shoulders, fingernails digging into the soft skin of his back just to try and hold on and _take it_. His grip is so tight it must hurt, but it doesn’t slow Eric down: if anything, the slight pain spurs him on, pulling Dele impossibly closer._ _

__His dick finally being touched feels like heaven, and he lets out a series of broken sobs as it slides against Eric’s abs. He could come from this along and he wants to, but he’s not been given permission yet, so he focuses on that one thing alone and not of the feeling of Eric’s skin against his throbbing cock. He’s almost relieved when Eric flips them so he’s laying on his back, because he can’t feel anything except the tangible tension in the air and the humidity of the room – and a drop of precome that slips down his dick, filling him with such a dying need that he closes his eyes in the face of it._ _

__Somehow, Eric managed not to slip out during the swift movement, still fully seated inside Dele. He’s pressed into him up to the hilt, the head of his dick pressing relentlessly against the younger man’s prostate until he pulls back, almost all the way out. He stays there for a second, only an inch of him inside, until Dele is swearing incoherently, and then slams all the way back in. The tears that have been blurring his vision finally spill over his cheeks and his cussing makes way for cries, harsh sounds that Eric tries to kiss away._ _

__It's less kissing and more Dele breathing into Eric's mouth, but he still keeps the older man close with an arm around his shoulders. The other comes up above his head, palm slapping against the headboard when Eric hits his prostate with every thrust, stars glittering behind his eyelids and thighs trembling._ _

__He's not even making noises anymore; he can't seem to make his throat work. Instead, he breathes quietly through his nose, mouth dropped open with the force of the rhythm Eric has set out. It's punishing, no longer teasing but right where Dele wants him. This is what he's been waiting for all day, and he's finally fucking getting it. He feels like he's floating on cloud nine, eyes rolling back in his head as fire spreads through his veins._ _

__Eric fists his hand in Dele's hair, grip tight enough that the younger man feels the sharp pain of it on his scalp, but it does nothing to bring him back down to earth. It just heightens the pleasure, makes everything ten times more intense, until his lungs are tight and he's not even sure what his name is anymore. Eric pulls his head back, the skin of his throat snapping taught with the movement, and he runs his tongue along the curve of Dele's clavicle, tiny kitten licks in the sweat that has pooled in the dip of it._ _

__“Dele,” Eric says firmly, but his voice is muffled like he's underwater, and Dele can't quite work out the distance of his body. He must be close, he reasons, but he sounds so far away that the younger man fumbles around, palms closing around Eric's biceps and holding on tight. “Dele, are you with me?”_ _

__Dele works his throat, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he tries to reply, but he can’t seem to get any words out. It’s probably a good thing anyway, because if he said yes it’d be a lie – he’s never felt so far away, so deep in his own head that this feeling is the only thing he’s focusing on. But it’s not a bad thing, not a bad thing at all. He wants to live in this place, thinks that it’s his very idea of heaven. Eric is everywhere; all around him and inside him, not only physically but mentally, too. His smell and his touch and his voice, the sight of his red mouth and heavy brow. It’s all Eric._ _

__“ _Dele_ ,” Eric snaps, moving his lips and tongue and teeth away from Dele’s neck. He whimpers at the loss, broken and raw, sliding his hand up to the back of Eric’s head to try and push him back down. That doesn’t work; instead, the older man stills his hips, and all Dele can feel is the pounding of his own heart. “What’s my name, Del? Say it.” _ _

__He draws in a deep, ragged breath, lungs aching from the force of it, and on the exhale, he whispers, “Eric.” The word is sounds good, tastes good on his tongue, and it makes Eric start moving again, shallow thrusts of his hips until he works up a relentless pace again, and every time he slams back in, Dele cries out. He’s saying Eric’s name, repeating it over and over again until it’s nothing but a slurred string of syllables that doesn’t sound an awful lot like anything, but it’s the only thing he can think of. The only thing that running through his mind on a loop, the only thing his mouth knows how to say._ _

__Eric. Eric. Eric. Eric._ _

__“Good boy,” Eric whispers, untangling his fingers from Dele’s hair and curving his palm around the line of his jaw instead. He leans down and kisses the corner of Dele’s lips repeatedly, tiny little pecks that are so gentle it makes a fresh wave of tears cascade down the younger man’s cheeks. There’s not enough room in his body to contain how much he loves Eric. He feels like he could explode because of it, bursting at the seams as his chest tightens from the force of it. “You’ve done amazing, babe. It’s alright, you can come now. You can come.”_ _

__“Fuck – _Fuck_ , Eric,” Dele gasps. The words have broken a dam inside of him, and the heat of his orgasm is wrapping itself around his body comfortingly, making the tips of his fingers tingle and goosebumps rise on his skin. He’s been waiting for this for hours, since Eric’s tongue was in his arse and he was fucking down into the mattress, and now it’s finally here, he doesn’t need any more encouragement. “I love you, I love you so much.” _ _

__His entire body freezes as he comes untouched, fingernails digging into Eric’s shoulder blades as he cries out loudly. His dick is aching and he doesn’t think he’s ever come so hard before, orgasm slamming into him right from the soles of his feet up to the top of his head. It doesn’t take Eric long to follow, a few forceful thrusts before his hips still and he’s coming. Dele can feel it, feels so full and so _possessed_ , like Eric has marked his territory and now owns the younger man. The thought of it sends Dele’s mind into overdrive and his vision blacks out, only semi-aware of what’s going on around him. His entire body is numb and he can’t feel a thing anymore, but he can hear Eric panting in his ear, until those sounds fade to silence too. _ _

__Everything is so quiet, so peaceful, and Dele’s never felt more safe than he does right now._ _

__He comes to when Eric is wiping him clean, damp cloth stroking over his skin ever so gently but it’s still too much. Dele is over sensitive, hisses at the touch, and Eric’s head snaps up, smiling softly when their eyes meet. He looks fond and in love, so in love, and Dele can’t help but reach for him, fingers curling around whatever skin he can find and pulling his boyfriend to him._ _

__“Hey,” Eric whispers, climbing under the covers and holding his arms out. Dele fits himself against Eric’s side, resting his head on his chest and throwing an arm across his stomach. Eric’s arms close around him, one hand on the younger man’s hip and the other tracing patterns on his bare shoulder. Letters, Dele thinks. E-R-I-C and I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U and M-I-N-E. “Are you okay?”_ _

__“Yeah. Thank you,” Dele murmurs, dropping a soft kiss onto Eric’s chest, right over his heart, and Eric picks up the hand that’s settled on his stomach and brings it to his mouth, brushing his lips over the red raw marks from the rope. The buzzing in Dele’s veins has settled into something pleasant, satisfying. All he needs now is to sleep for ten hours and have Eric cook him a fry up in the morning, and he doesn’t think his life could get any better._ _

__“Was good, right?” Eric asks. Dele can hear the smirk in his voice, slight smugness coating his tone. He deserves it, really, the bragging rights – but Dele isn’t going to tell him that. He’d never live it down, and besides, Dele is the only one with an ego in this relationship. He doesn’t need Eric getting one, too. Who else would bring him back down when he’s being obnoxious?_ _

__“It was alright,” Dele says, pulling a face against Eric’s chest. He curls his fingers into fists to try and hide the fact that his hands are still trembling, and his knees are so weak he’d be like Bambi if he tried to walk. Truthfully, he feels shaken to the very core, turned inside out and then the right way again. Eric has rearranged all the pieces of him to suit his needs, and Dele can’t even find it in himself to complain. In fact, he’s grateful. “Had better.”_ _

__“You’d better not,” Eric says mildly, tapping Dele’s hip. He’s silent for a second, and then another, but Dele can hear him thinking, the wheels turning in his head as he leans down and buries a kiss into the younger man’s hair. “Maybe I should have kept that gag on you. Don’t quite think you’ve learnt your lesson yet.”_ _

__Dele’s dick makes a valiant effort to harden again, but he’s still sensitive and it aches, pressing the heel of his hand against the base of it just to try and get it to stop. “Don’t,” he groans, half choked. He’s definitely just outed himself, because Eric grins against the top of his head, running his fingertips up the length of his. It’s the ghost of a touch, and if Dele had more energy it’d be ticklish, but he just sighs and curls tighter against Eric instead, the movement more soothing than anything._ _

__“Get some sleep,” Eric whispers. His arm around Dele's shoulders tightens, draping over the younger man like a comfort blanket. He puts out heat like a radiator, the warmth of it settling into Dele's bones until he's contented, melting into the body underneath him. His eyelids slip shut, heavy with exhaustion as he dozes off, but he still hears Eric say those three words. “I love you, Del.”_ _

__He falls asleep knowing that he's safe and protected, comforted by the knowledge that the man by his side is the very centre of his universe. It's the one constant in his life, the one thing that will never change._ _

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @ [bami-dele](https://bami-dele.tumblr.com/) xo


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